Your browser does not support inline
frames or is currently configured not to display inline
frames.

The Special Houseguest comes down from
the sky, from a distant planet or a magical kingdom,
either accidentally or purposely. He or she, by pure
chance (or was it?) lands inside somebody's house, to the
surprise of the resident or residents living there.
Despite having no idea who the person/creature/life form
is, they adopt the Special Houseguest into their family
instantly. The visitor ends up driving them up the wall
on a regular basis, but they would never let him/her/it
be discovered, 'cause gosh darn it, they love each
other!

Special Houseguest serials connect with
the public because they work on a certain psychological
level. It's more common to see the "Chosen One"
approach used instead, where the central character, the
one you're meant to step into the shoes of, is the one
with the powers and abilities. But no matter how
"realistic" their problems are portrayed, there
will always be a disconnect between them and the audience
that knows of no such experiences. Special Houseguest
stories contain a fix for this -- they require at least
one other character, this one depicted as grounded and
"normal" as possible and meant to represent the
viewer. The Houseguest is a mystery both the character
and the audience want to solve. The viewer gets to know
the Houseguest right alongside this character, and as
they grow closer, the viewer develops the same attachment
to the Houseguest.

It's been done many times in the past
and it'll be done many times in the future, because it works. Here are some
of the more significant Special Houseguests of the last
fifty years.

One of the earliest Special Houseguests
in TV history...if there were any beforehand, I don't
know of them. Tim O'Hara, reporter for the Los Angeles
Sun, has a roommate...a roommate from MARS! This Martian
roommate can turn invisible, read minds, talk to animals
and all sort of other tricks. He looks exactly human,
because isn't that always the way.

The Martian's actual name is Exigius
12½, but his Earthly name becomes "Uncle
Martin" after Tim tries to pass him off as such. He
also has two antennae which he can fortunately retract
when company drops by, usually the scatterbrained
landlady whom Martin develops a half-romance with.

By the time the series was about to be
cancelled, Bewitched had hit the scene, and so
Uncle Martin inexplicably gained a ton of new powers he
hadn't had before (yet still explained through
"science" rather than "magic"). The
show only lasted three seasons, and remains rarely seen
to this day. You're far more likely to find the
disastrous 1999 movie adaption starring Christopher
Lloyd, but it's a poor substitute.

A professional astronaut lands on a
deserted island and finds an ornate bottle lying in the
sand. He pulls off the cork. Steam rises and out pops a
dark succubus, who attaches herself to Major Tony Nelson
and refuses to leave him alone for the rest of his life.
She sabotages his relationship with his fiance, drives
away all potential girlfriends and even poofs him into a
cage at one point. Eventually Stockholm Syndrome takes
over and Tony surrenders, marrying Jeannie forever.

So what makes this endearing instead of
frightening? Barbara Eden. She completely threw herself
into this role, bouncing around with such enthusiasm that
you abandoned all reason and really thought you were
watching an enchanted spirit for a few minutes. Compare
this with (here I go again) Charmed, where every
line dealing with something that could never happen was
snarked out in a nasally tone by the three sisters,
making the ability to care about any onscreen event
impossible. That is not how you do fantasy. I have a lot
of respect for any actor that can take a more out-there
role and make it believable. It's not easy.

In one of the more regrettable ideas
the show presented, Jeannie was once locked in a safe for
four entire episodes. Stuff then proceeded to happen: the
safe is on a rocket bound for the moon! The safe is
stolen by gangsters! The safe is on that conveyor belt
headed for that junk crusher! The safe will blow up if
opened wrong! The only one who knows the combination to
the safe is the President of the United States! Jeannie's
sister is here and she's going to take advantage of the
situation and seduce Tony! I guess if you want to get out
of a few weeks of work, this method is less obvious to
viewers than a clip show, but it must have been annoying
as hell to find her in the same trap over and over back
when the show was only on once a week.

Then there was also that time when a
cartoon surfer teen found a bottle of his own, which also
contained a possessive genie named Jeannie, but that one
had red hair. It's unknown if the incidents are related.

A spaceship arrives in the woods, and
out come doughy aliens who zip around the universe
collecting plants. Midway through their mission, they're
discovered by humans and leave as quickly as possible --
in their haste abandoning one of them. This is especially
unfortunate because the creatures apparently rely on a
symbiotic mental connection to sustain their own lives.
The remaining alien wanders into a house, lured by candy,
and connects with a little boy from a divorced home who
desperately needs a father figure. (Take THAT,
Spielberg's dad!) But it isn't enough, and the alien
starts to die. The mother drops her coffee cup.
Astronauts walk into the house in slow motion. The house
is Saran Wrapped and there, surrounded by clueless
scientists, the alien appears to expire. Fortunately, at
that moment, his friends re-enter the atmosphere,
responding to a signal he was broadcasting with the use
of tin foil and a Speak 'n Spell. He recovers, escapes,
inspires the Amblin logo and returns to his regular life.

As one of the most influential Special
Houseguests in cinematic history, ET popularized a number
of elements that countless stories like it would borrow:
the innocent little boy, the tearjerking moments of sap,
and the apparent moral that Science is Evil. This last
one saturated fiction for at least ten years: scientists
were henceforth depicted as poking, prodding, emotionless
villains who would capture you, imprison you in a lab
forever and revoke every constitutional right you had. It
was cited as the reason why Wayne Szalinski kept the
event of his children shrinking a secret, as he told Nick
in Honey I Blew Up The Kid: "We didn't want
you kids to become specimens! To go through countless
tests!" So....if that ray had any adverse effects on
them, like maybe it increased their risk of cancer by
900%.....you'd rather not know?

The Littles live within the walls of
regular-sized people's houses and mooch off their food
supply. They are a species of what appear to be human-rat
hybrids, with big buck teeth and tails. Concidentally,
they all have the surname "Little," and
everybody else involved also sports on-the-nose last
names: the boy who discovers their existence is
"Henry Bigg." Now that ET happened, there has
to be an evil scientist involved, who is named "Dr.
Hunter" because he hunts the Littles, get it?

The Littles started as a series of
popular children's books. The idea of tiny little guys
trying to survive in a world of giants had television
potential, but it also had the misfortune of being
adapted by ABC Saturday Morning in the early 80's, so
every punch was pulled or had pillows tied to it. Despite
how dull this cartoon can get, it's my opinion it could
have stayed on longer than it did, if the network hadn't
forced a gimmick as the theme of Season 3. The Littles
were then suddenly traveling around the world, learning a
moral lesson in every country. They even go up to space
in the revamped main title. Once you see anyone on TV
floating in space, you know their shark has jumped.

For years I thought the Saturday
Morning Punky Brewster cartoon was a fully
original creation and not based on anything. When I heard
people say "Punky Brewster" I thought it was
the cartoon they were talking about. I had no idea a
prime-time version of this ever existed until around 1993
or so. This was originally a down-to-earth, perfectly
normal sitcom, with no furry munchkins or anything? No
wonder I never noticed it.

It makes what they warped it into feel
bizarre now. Punky was riding her bike through the park
when she saw a rainbow in the sky, and decided to see if
she could find the end of that rainbow. She got there and
discovered a lost civilization of Ewok creatures with
magical powers, one of which briefly left the confines of
the rainbow in curiosity. While he and Punky were
screwing around, the rainbow faded away, leaving Glomer
stuck there. But that was okay, now that he was a Special
Houseguest! From that day forward, Punky and Glomer got
into two eleven-minute escapades every week.

Was this an alternate timeline created
when Punky threw a pair of dice to determine if she or
her adopted father would pay the pizza guy? Or was this
taking place within the continuity of the prime-time Punky
and Glomer was just offscreen for all of it? I guess we
can debate that all day. They did release the cartoon on
DVD, sort of -- as a bonus along with each season of the
original show. If Punky Brewster had been on
longer, what direction would the cartoon have taken?
Would they have updated the design of her cartoon
counterpart as she grew? ....Considering her infamous
early blossoming, probably not.

Rubik was once owned by an evil
magician, but a series of accidents put him in the
possession of the first Hispanic children in US animated
history (or at least the first PC ones). Together, they
protect Rubik by utilizing his limitless powers to
humiliate the magician over and over again.

Sound pretty keen? Well, Rubik is no
Glomer. For him to do anything, you have to solve him
first, and if you drop him on the floor, his tiles get
scrambled and you have to solve him again. And no, you
can't just rip the stickers off and glue them in the
correct places -- it won't count. There were many
stressful situations when the Rodriguezes needed help
NOW, but had to solve Rubik first. The number of people
who successfully completed the real 1980's puzzle -- at
least once -- has to be in the double digits and I'm
being generous. How could these poor kids be expected to
do it every DAY?

The wisecracking, cat-munching,
cash-cow Alien Life Form crashed his spaceship into the
roof of the Tanner Family of Los Angeles (not to be
confused with the San Francisco Tanners)
one evening. Everyone seems to instantly enjoy his
company, with the exception of wife Kate, who finds him
nothing but a nuisance. Yet when faced with the chance of
reporting him to the Alien Task Force, an entire
government-funded organization dedicated to tracking down
aliens....she balks on it. Maybe she likes him after all.
Four seasons later the ATF catches him anyway.

Alf has drifted in and out of work
since then, getting the occasional TV movie or talk show.
Rumors persist of a feature-length movie in his future,
but we'll see.

After ET, many Special Houseguest
programs had a character meant to emulate Elliot, in
hopes that the audience's emotions could be manipulated
in the same way. Here, Brian Tanner was meant to be the
Elliot. Every time Alf was in danger of being caught, or
was on the verge of leaving, that's when they would bring
out Brian: "NOOOOO! SOB SOB, HE'S MY FRIEND!"
Since you could tell what they were trying to do, it was
more irritating than touching. Elliot imitators never
worked as well as the original.

Mork was originally part of a dream
that Fonzie had on Happy Days, but the network
liked him enough to un-dream him and give him his own
show. When the episode in question reran, there was a new
ending that revealed Mork was real and only made The Fonz
THINK he was a dream. Many years later (if we're going by
the time periods of both programs), Mork rented a room in
Mindy's apartment and became a Special Houseguest.

Eventually Mork and Mindy got married
and had a baby. This baby came out of a giant egg and
was, in fact, a hairy shirtless Jonathan Winters. This
was the point when most people decided they'd quit
watching.

AKA "Voice Input Child
Identicant," or "the star of that strange show
you barely remember about the robot girl." Doomed to
live in infamy as the textbook example of 80's sitcom
kitsch, Vicky stomped around the Lawson household,
speaking in monotone, causing awkward calamity after
awkward calamity.

Unlike most situations that a Special
Houseguest is a part of, Vicky is not being kept a secret
out of fears the government or Science will discover her.
She was built by the family's dad at the robotics company
he works for, and is being tested out to see if she could
mature and grow on her own in a family environment. The
"secret" part comes in because the dad can't
have anybody else revealing any of this until his study
is complete, lest his co-workers steal it. Naturally,
this study doesn't end before the show does.

Worse yet, Dad is endangering his
family's lives by letting Vicky run loose around them --
for Vicky is atomically powered. Yes, it was true. One
sharp blow to her body and they would have all been
vaporized.

Side Note #1: If Vicky grew up, she
would have looked like this:

Side Note #2: This show was remade in
India under the title "Karishma Kaa Karishma."

Most Special Houseguests have one thing
in common: you wouldn't really want them in your
house. You wouldn't want Alf wrecking your things, or
Jeannie turning you into a cow accidentally, or Mork
doing....ANYTHING Mork does. The traits that make someone
entertaining to watch would make them unbearable in real
life. The exception is this one. Boy, would it EVER be
awesome to have Winnie around.

She has no limits and no inhibitions.
Bullies bothering you? They're frogs. Feel like going to
the Grand Canyon on a whim? She'll take you there in
seconds. Ask her for a Playstation 4 and she gives you a
Playstation 5. I might have implied this once or twice, but I really like Winnie.

My theory as to why Free Spirit
never caught on in 1989 was that, thanks to ET, the 1980s
were crammed with Special Houseguests and people were
tired of the scenario by the end of the decade. They had
an alien, they had a robot....did they need a witch too?
Of course, being forced into a death slot against The
Simpsons probably also had something to do with it.

In 1985, for reasons I'm at a loss to
explain, Marvel Comics looked at Harvey Comics and got
jealous. Why, I can't pinpoint -- Harvey was deep in
financial trouble at the time. Whatever their line of
thinking was, they introduced Star Comics, a new
tot-friendly line of comic books, most of which were
based on licensed 80's cartoon and toy properties. A few,
though, were original creations....well, except for
"Royal Roy," who was so much a copy of Richie
Rich that Harvey tried to sue. But there was also Planet
Terry, a wholesome-looking space traveler with wide
Mickey Mouse eyes....Wally the Wizard, which had Bob
Bolling behind it....and then there was Top Dog.

Average schoolboy Joey Jordan
discovered a talking dog while looking for a baseball in
the woods. They befriended each other and Joey agreed to
keep Top Dog as a "pet" to protect his secrets.
Top Dog wasn't just a talking dog, he was a canine of
many talents. He could speak any language, mimic anyone's
voice, and possessed a genius intellect. I'm withholding
a lot of information since I'd like to cover "Top
Dog" in greater detail later, especially its bonkers
final issue.

Nothing in the Star Comics lineup found
mass cultural appeal, including this dog. Marvel wasn't
ready to give up on him so easily and they started
putting Top Dog in the back pages of their Heathcliff
comic. He wasn't welcome there and received several nasty
letters. Kids found Top Dog kind of cornball and lame,
and he was eventually chased away for good. He last
appeared in 1990.

Poor lonely loser Keiichi picks up the
phone and orders a pizza one evening. He dials the number
wrong and calls the super-secret number of the Goddess
Hotline instead, and summons the superbeing Belldandy,
who will now grant him one wish. Keiichi blurts out that
he wishes someone like that would stay with him forever. Face
it, otaku, you just hit the jackpot!

Then Belldandy starts inviting her
friends over. And complete culture-clash chaos ensues.
For one matter, it turns out Belldandy becomes heavily
intoxicated if she drinks soda.

This is the main plotline of Ah! My
Goddess, one of the longest still-running manga in
history, as well as the longest to be published on a
regular basis in America, by Dark Horse under the
corrected-pun title "Oh My Goddess."

If you have little patience for
will-they-won't-theys, welcome to hell: this story has
been going on for over 25 years with its main couple in
no closer position than they were originally. Some fans
have remarked that Belldandy might as well be Keiichi's
mother for all the inaction they both take. It was,
eventually, explained in-universe that the sex drives of
both characters were lowered when they joined fates,
because no one in AMG's Heaven wanted a mortal and a
goddess to consummate. Well, don't that beat all.

Of all the Special Houseguests you
don't want, Roger is the one you want least of all. He's
a despicable scumbag of an extraterrestrial, selfish to
an extreme degree, and would stab you in the back in a
second. Yet somehow, we don't hate him...why is that?
It's probably because of his nutty Paul Lynde voice -- if
he sounded as dark as he acts, it wouldn't work.

Roger also barely qualifies as a
Special Houseguest, given that his numerous disguises
work SO WELL that it really isn't necessary for the Smith
family to hide him -- he could live anywhere. No one ever
notices that the new kid has gray skin, or that the loan
shark over there has three fingers on each hand. The only
way anyone will believe he's an alien is if the bald top
of his head is exposed, which almost never happens. There
was even a recent episode that included a short stay at
the hospital for Roger. Due to the all-disguising turban
bandage on his head, none of the doctors noticed anything
strange about his physiology.

This is another one I want to talk
about in more detail later, because it's an aborted
Disney TV cartoon. Fluppy Dogs was made third
after The Wuzzles and Gummi Bears, but
after its pilot movie didn't test well, Disney dumped the
show and aired the pilot as a TV special instead. Then
they came out with the plush toys and coloring books
ANYWAY. Its weird state of half-existence makes it feel
eerie to me.

Despite their namesake, Fluppy Dogs are
not really dogs. They're Fluppies, intelligent alien
creatures that can hop between worlds by using a special
key to open doors in midair. Once they travel to Earth,
they're discovered by average everyboy Jamie Bingham and
his next-door-neighbor Claire. They become Special
Houseguests in Jamie's home and he helps them hide from
society. Fortunately, since they look like dogs, they
blend into suburbia well. Unfortunately, the first human
to discover them wasn't Jamie or Claire, but an evil
millionaire named J.J. Wagstaff, who would have schemed
to capture the Fluppies in every episode. "I MUST!
HAVE! THOSE FLUPPY DOGS! NYEH-HEH-HEEEEH!"

Famed composer Shirley Walker scored
this cartoon.

Experiment 626, an illegal genetic
monstrosity created by mad scientist Jumba, escapes his
holding cell and blasts off, crash-landing on Earth.
Being the only one with knowledge of his destructive
traits, Jumba is ordered to retrieve 626 under the care
of Pleakley, a nervous officer who probably shouldn't
have been picked to do that.

Jumba's creation was programmed to
destroy any city he came across, but fortunately, he
landed on a Hawaiian island with no major cities to speak
of. He also fell under the care of an offbeat little
orphan girl who managed to reverse his more antisocial
traits through the power of O'hana. Jumba and Pleakley
also became Special Houseguests of a sort, but only
because the Galactic Federation dumped them there.

Then it turned out Jumba carried his
previous 625 genetic experiments with him and they
somehow all found ways to hide on that tiny island, only
coming out one at a time on a weekly basis. In addition
to finding homes for them all, Lilo entered contest after
contest with Stitch as a contestant, over and over, as if
somebody controlling their destiny couldn't think of
anything better for them to do. From there the story
trailed off.

Never let it be said this list isn't
thorough.

Cartoonist Terry Moore has created a
number of things, most famously the slice-of-life comic
book Strangers in Paradise, but during that same
time period, he also put out a companion comic called Paradise
Too that consisted of all the ideas he had failed to
sell over the years. Mostly these were comic strips the
syndicates never bit at, and usually, you could tell why.
There were strips about mice, ducks, frogs, and a
solitary polar bear sitting on a patch of ice, and no
offense to Moore, but none of them were all that funny.
(His attempt at basing a comic strip on Lizzie Borden was
sure funny, but there was no way that was
getting sold.) At the time, he was developing a Special
Houseguest strip about a fairy named Kixie, and that
character dominated the majority of Paradise Too
issues.

Kixie is a sassy sprite who loves to
eat strawberry cake, and.....that's it, that's every
Kixie strip. It's a bunch of lasagna jokes with a
different food. In addition to creating new Kixie comics
for Paradise Too, Moore also tried launching
"Kixie" as a webcomic, but it never caught on.
Even Moore admits he may have focused on cake a little
too much.

This one is funny, though, for some
reason:

An irresponsible young couple discovers
they can't concieve a child. That evening, they write
down the traits they wish their dream kid had on slips of
paper, stuff them in a box, and bury the box in the
backyard, because....there was nothing on TV that night,
I don't know.

One lightning strike later, a boy with
leaves growing on his legs has emerged from where the box
used to be. They prove to be terrible parents, but
gradually, he teaches them life lessons through his
quirkiness. Then, as he fulfills all the requests written
on the paper, his leaves fall off one by one. When he
loses them all, he fades away, but he did what he set out
to do and now the couple are model parents to their new
adopted daughter....I think.

Directed by Peter Hedges, who only
makes movies once in a blue moon and has to date made
just three. The second one was Pieces of April,
which I loved to death. This was his third. I have no
idea what happened.